


Times Change

by helens78



Series: Matter of Time [11]
Category: Natural Nylon RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-03-12
Updated: 2004-03-12
Packaged: 2017-10-05 11:38:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helens78/pseuds/helens78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jude is not at all happy about the way Ewan forgot who he belonged to, but Ewan's a little more willing to stand up for himself now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Times Change

**Author's Note:**

> Mind the warnings. MoT is a series that revolves around noncon.

"So you're seeing Liam Neeson now, huh?" Jude asks, glancing over the table at Jason Isaacs. They've kept in touch over the years, though that was mostly Jude's doing. Jude doesn't lose touch with people.

"_Seeing_'s maybe overstating it some," Jason says. "More like we're taking turns seeing which one gets fucked and which one has to beg."

"Sounds like Liam," Jude says, not a little bitterly. And when Jason laughs, Jude tilts his head up and shoots Jason a look that makes Jason cough and mumble a fast apology. Because everyone knows, even if no one ever mentions it. Everyone knows Ewan got distracted by Liam those years back, and never quite found his way back to Jude's bed.

_And that's not right. Because he's _mine_._

The thought simmers at the back of Jude's consciousness while he finishes the day's errands. Call his agent. Catch up on industry gossip. Get the groceries. Pick up the dry cleaning. Someday he'll have an assistant to do all this shite, but for now it's still his responsibility.

Neeson and Isaacs, though. Jude's never known Isaacs to share anything, which is why the two of them have never hooked up. Not even for something as casual as a fuck in the back room of a boring party or a drink nobody else will ever know about.

Isaacs doesn't share. And that means Ewan's out one very large Irish lover.

Jude's not smirking, not really, not as he makes his way back to his flat and puts away the groceries. He doesn't start smirking full-out until he dials up Ewan and waits for voice mail to pick up. Ewan never answers the phone, and most times Jude doesn't bother to ring him. Jude doesn't play games where the end result is up in the air. Jude doesn't play to lose.

Ewan always waits a certain amount of time between getting voice mail and returning it. On desperate days he makes himself wait fifteen minutes, and on days when he genuinely is busy, he can let it slip a few hours. Jude's aware of this, so he tucks his mobile into his pocket and wanders around his house, cleaning up a little, sorting through mail, getting bills paid, organizing scripts--

\--and there's the phone, buzzing away in his pocket. Jude fishes it out. "Yeah?" Not quite managing to sound bored.

"Got your voice mail," Ewan says. "What do you want?"

"You," Jude says, flicking an envelope onto the table. Unsolicited. Garbage. "Here." A second envelope, unsolicited too. More garbage. Jude's only flicking through the mail to have something to do with his hands, something that will help him keep the bored tone in his voice right up 'til the point where boredom gives way to command and he snaps out, "Now."

"Uh." Jude hears the surprise in Ewan's voice. He imagines he can hear Ewan getting hard, too, the way Ewan always did when Jude said things like _Now_ or _Here_. _Kneel._ _Mine._ Jude's said a lot of things like that over the years, and they always made Ewan harder than hell, with a sneer on his face he couldn't quite back up with his actions. Ewan would have liked to shrug off Jude's orders, Jude's touches, Jude's telephone calls, and for a while there when Ewan and Liam were... well, whatever in hell they were to each other... Ewan managed it.

_Times change,_ Jude thinks, _but better yet, they change back._ "Get here," Jude says. "And do it quickly."

There's not a doubt in Jude's mind that Ewan's going to say yes. Ewan actually doesn't say anything, but that doesn't matter. The _yes_ was implied as soon as Ewan picked up the phone and dialed back, and when Ewan rings off, Jude knows that means he's on his way.

_And it's about bloody time, too,_ Jude thinks. Ewan's had his freedom for long enough. Jude knew better than to interfere -- Neeson's much bigger than him, after all -- but those days are done. Enough flitting off with one Jedi or another, enough pretty boys in glitter, enough crawling around on sets for Australian directors.

Ewan doesn't have to knock on the door. He's got a key. He's got a key because Jude doesn't want the inconvenience of having to stop what he's doing just to get up and let Ewan in. He's got a key because it's convenient _for Jude_, not because Ewan's got any rights here. And when Jude hears that key rattling into the lock, he's ready. He leans up against the wall just beside the door, and when the door opens, he gets a hand on the back of Ewan's neck and steers him inside, kicking the door shut behind him.

Ewan doesn't say anything as Jude pushes him into the living room. Jude bends Ewan forward over the arm of his couch -- and it's such a nice couch that Jude's got a towel over the arm, just to be sure it doesn't end up with any stains because of this.

Jude doesn't talk. He figures if Ewan wants words, he can beg for them. He's not expecting that, though, so he just tugs Ewan's hips back, snaps the fly of his jeans open, and shoves his jeans down to his knees.

It's been _years_. It feels like it was just yesterday. Ewan's hands make fists in the couch cushions, and he spreads his legs as far apart as he can get them. He can hear latex snapping onto Jude's hand and knows what's coming. His face is outright burning with humiliation, but he doesn't move an inch.

Jude's fingers, three of them, slick with too much lube, glide into Ewan's ass. Ewan shudders, lets out a small sound. It's not enough for Jude, so Jude twists his fingers, hard, and Ewan lets out a groan that makes Jude grin. It's an ugly grin. But Jude's getting what he wants.

He wants more sounds like those. More open, breathless, wordless sounds. He keeps working his fingers hard, and Ewan obliges him, one sound after another until Ewan jerks, half-straightens, and Jude has to grab the material in the center of his back and shove him back down.

"What do you want? _Slut._" Jude hisses. "Do you want something? After all this time, you want something from me?"

"Jude--" Ewan gets out, barely. "All you ever had to do was ask--"

"_Liar._" Jude's fingers twist again, merciless now, and press down _hard_ against that spot in Ewan. Ewan tries to shove himself forward, tries to get away from those fingers, but it doesn't happen. He lets his mouth hang open and gasps for breath. And Jude can hear what Ewan's not saying.

_Please. Please. Please._

"Please, Jude--"

"Why?" Jude asks, punctuating it with another ruthless thrust and another twitch of his fingers. "Why should I give you _anything_ you want?" _After the hell you've given me._ He doesn't say that last part. He never will.

"...make it -- good for you," Ewan pants, "please..."

"Did you beg _him_?" Jude asks. "Did you beg any of the whores you've been with since the last time I had you? Did you give out words like _please_\--" Another thrust. "Or _yours_\--" And another. "Or _love_?"

Fuck. Fuck, that's one step too far, and Jude knows it. He wants to take it back as soon as the words are gone from him, but he can't. _Damn it._

Ewan doesn't take the advantage offered by those words, though, and when he stays quiet, Jude slows his thrusts just a little. Just enough that they'll rock him with pleasure instead of making him think he's going to come through pain.

"Tell me again," Jude murmurs. "Why should I give you anything?"

Ewan shudders; Jude can feel it halfway up his arm. "Because," he whispers.

"Because...?" Jude twists his fingers and rakes them over Ewan's prostate again, making Ewan shudder even harder.

"Please," Ewan gets out. "_Please._"

"You know who you belong to," Jude murmurs. His knuckles are brushing against Ewan's prostate with every thrust now, and he can feel Ewan shaking.

"Please," Ewan whispers.

"You're mine," Jude says. "Going to remember that?"

"Never forgot," Ewan breathes.

_The hell you didn't._ But Jesus, Jude would like to believe him.

"Mine," Jude says again.

Ewan groans, but it's not meant to be a protest.

"Mine."

Jude's fingers, going in hard and fast and deep.

"Mine."

Jude's hand, twisting at the wrist and making Ewan jump and shiver and squirm.

"_Mine._ Come now."

Ewan jerks again, cries out into the couch cushions, and the bitter scent of come stains the air as Ewan stains that towel Jude laid out for him. He tries not to move once he's done, but Jude's fingers aren't stopping, and it's starting to hurt. Ewan doesn't want to beg again, but he's going to have to.

"Please -- please, stop -- hurts -- please."

He's had the last few years to remind himself that begging things to stop doesn't have to mean anything, and he closes his eyes as he braces himself on the couch.

Jude does withdraw his fingers, finally. He strips the latex glove off his hand and shoves Ewan's shirt partway up his back. Lets his own pants down and pulls his cock out. A little more lube, and he strokes his hand over his cock, picking up speed fast as he watches the motion of his hand.

A few more strokes, and Jude's coming, too, letting his come drip onto the small of Ewan's back. Ewan groans when he feels it, pressing his face further into the cushions and finally pressing his hips back, against Jude, wanting more rather than wanting to beg for it to stop.

"Good," Jude pants, when he's done. He shakes the last drops of come off his cock and pulls back, takes a full step back so he can look at what he's done here.

Ewan, face-down over the arm of his couch, pants around his knees, shirt up around his shoulders. Jude's come staining his lower back.

"Worth waiting for," Jude murmurs without thinking. He shakes his head, recovering, and lands a hard slap on Ewan's ass, making Ewan jump again. "You put a foot out of line again, and I'll fucking feed you your balls," he promises. "Get dressed and get out."

Shaking, Ewan shoves himself up to his feet. He tugs his pants up, buttons them again, and then shrugs out of his shirt, sweeping it across his lower back. He throws the shirt at Jude, narrowing his eyes at Jude's look of surprise.

"It doesn't work like that anymore," Ewan says quietly.

"It doesn't--"

"You don't just call me and then tell me to go. Not anymore."

"And how do you want it to work, then?" Jude asks, kicking Ewan's shirt away and crossing his arms over his chest.

"I come when you call." Ewan takes a few steps forward, and Jude's tempted to back up. He doesn't, though. He holds his ground. Better to hold his ground with Ewan. "And I stay if I want. Leave when I want. Maybe fuck you until you're begging for _me_ for once." Jude's expression is incredulous; Ewan pushes forward several more steps until Jude has no choice but to back up. Until Ewan's got him backed up into the _wall_. "You think I can't?" Ewan asks, half-purring. "You think I don't know how to do that now?"

"I think you might not be very wise to try," Jude whispers.

"Kiss me," Ewan orders. "Lean down and kiss me. _Now._"

Jude swallows, then leans his head down and kisses Ewan. It's not as though they've never done this before.

Only this time Ewan pins his arms back to the wall, and shoves a thigh between Jude's legs. And Jude moans for him. Moans more when Ewan's teeth sink into Jude's lower lip, when Ewan kisses a hot trail over Jude's cheek and then starts biting at his neck.

"_God--_ Ewan--"

"That's not begging," Ewan whispers. "You know what begging sounds like. You've heard it often enough."

He's right. _Damn him,_ he's right.

"Please," Jude whispers.

"That's better," Ewan murmurs. "Knew I could make you beg." He grins, lets out a quiet chuckle as he leans back in and starts biting again.

Jude closes his eyes and lets his head rest against the wall. He knew it, too. Ewan was always going to make him beg.

It was only a matter of time.

_-end-_


End file.
